


Not About Angels

by Idisch_von_Swedish



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: (except not really normal though), Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction, F/F, Mental Institutions, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, past swan queen, post-swan queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7822384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idisch_von_Swedish/pseuds/Idisch_von_Swedish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Regina, this is your new roommate, Melissa. Did I say that correctly?”</p><p>Regina doesn’t really care about much but she's always been alone in her room, always had it to herself. She gives an irritated sigh and slowly turns her gaze toward the door, where a nurse is standing with an unfamiliar girl. Woman. Regina can't really estimate her age but she’s older than Regina herself. She's blonde, but not as blonde as Emma. Her lips are full, as opposed to Emma’s. Her eyes are blue, very blue even, but lifeless and dull, just like Regina’s own. Yeah. This might actually just work.</p><p>“Malisha,” the blonde corrects, and her voice is nothing like Emma’s, either.</p><p>Good.<br/>___</p><p>Emma is dead and Regina doesn't have anything to live for anymore. Will she be able to find meaning in her life again? Will her heart be open for new love, or will she be forever trapped in the past?</p><p>Mind the trigger warnings in the tags!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not About Angels

**Author's Note:**

> Birdy - Not About Angels  
> This song inspired this fic, hence the title.
> 
> I think I crushed my own heart a little with this, but I wanted to do something different. I tried keeping the characters as much in character as I could but there might be some parts more OOC than others. I hope you'll like the fic! I can say that, at least, I enjoyed writing it (can you believe? xD)
> 
> Thanks to Bayley for reading through it and approving of it ^^  
> And a late Happy Birthday to Meli!

**Not About Angels**

 

_Don't leave me, Emma. I can't live without you. If you die, I'll die too. Don't leave me._

 

* * *

 

Regina is numb. The world is grey. She's failed, again, and her wrists are wrapped up in layers and layers of bandages. Those damn bandages. Just a few more minutes and she would've been gone, gone from this world and reunited with her girlfriend. But no, of course _someone_ had to barge through the door and call an ambulance. Of course the ambulance made it in time. She doesn't quite remember it, she was so close to succeeding this time and was already feeling herself slip away into blissfulness. But no, _someone_ had to ruin it.

 

Snow ruins everything.

 

She was the one who told Regina’s mother about her suicidal thoughts in the first place, making it very difficult for her to go through with her plans. Regina made a terrible mistake in trusting her. She needed someone to confide in and she wanted to say goodbye but the insufferable, I-only-wanted-to-help, teen broke her promise not to tell anyone. She broke Regina’s trust and Regina refused to speak to her at all for a long time. In fact, she refused to speak at all for a long time, and even now she's still mostly quiet. She has nothing to say, so why would she speak? She just wants away from here.

 

Death doesn't frighten her. Death seems like the better option. Because Emma is gone and she has nothing left in this world to live for.

 

* * *

 

“Regina, this is your new roommate, Melissa. Did I say that correctly?”

 

Regina doesn’t really care about much but she's always been alone in her room, always had it to herself. She gives an irritated sigh and slowly turns her gaze toward the door, where a nurse is standing with an unfamiliar girl. Woman. Regina can't really estimate her age but she’s older than Regina herself. She's blonde, but not as blonde as Emma. Her lips are full, as opposed to Emma’s. Her eyes are blue, very blue even, but lifeless and dull, just like Regina’s own. Yeah. This might actually just work.

 

“Malisha,” the blonde corrects, and her voice is nothing like Emma’s, either.

 

Good.

 

“Right, Malisha. I'll remember that. Be nice now, girls, and don't be late for dinner.”

 

Regina frowns. No introduction? No instructions? Is this how new patients are meant to feel welcome and learn the routines? _She_ won't do it. She won't do shit.

 

Resolute, she shifts her gaze back to the diary she was reading before. She used to write every day, for years, but since Emma died she hasn’t written a single word. This particular diary is her most recent one and it starts on August 3, 2014. It ends on February 15, 2015, and so did Regina’s life. Essentially. She never reads about those last weeks, though, they are too painful, but everything before that. This is the twenty-seventh time she's rereading her diaries, or is it the twenty-eighth? She's losing count.

 

_August 16_

_Emma and I went to the woods today for our hike and of course it rained the whole day (I'm glad my diary survived, thank God for plastic bags!). But it doesn’t matter, it was fun anyway. It always is with her. She had a white tank top and no bra, so that contributed! She also insisted on putting the tent up by herself but that didn't work out well, so she eventually let me help her. Why is she so stubborn? Sigh. But I secretly love her stubbornness. I love everything about her. Gotta go now before she burns dinner!_

 

“What are you reading?”

 

Her new roommate is trying to make conversation with her. Now, that’s interesting (not really, though). Regina rolls her eyes and doesn't reply. Perhaps she misjudged the newcomer? She hopes she won't be the chatty type, she can't stand those.

 

“I get it. No talking.”

 

The blonde doesn't sound bothered, or even surprised, and Regina hears her casually flip down on her bed like this is all normal. It’s _not_ , and Regina reluctantly finds herself curious about this woman. She can't be completely new, she must’ve been here sometime before, but they haven't met until today. Slowly, she closes her diary and turns on her bed to take another look at her roommate. She’s lying on her back, expressionlessly staring up the white – always white, everything is fucking white – ceiling, and doesn’t seem to have any plans to move anytime soon.

 

Regina quietly clears her throat but doesn't know what to say. It’s not like she can ask why the blonde is here or what her issues are. Those are not appropriate first questions. And, really, that's the only thing Regina is interested in. After a few moments of stillness she looks away again and takes on a similar position as the blonde, and like this they lie in silence until it's time for dinner.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, you.”

 

The familiar blonde, face cold and ashen, slowly fades and gets replaced by a stranger. No, not a stranger. Her new roommate. The woman is standing by her bedside, gently shaking her shoulder.

 

“What?” Regina croaks out disorientedly.

 

“You were crying.”

 

Regina furrows her brows in confusion. Crying? Then she feels the warm wetness on her cheeks and remembers her dream, which was actually not so much a dream as it was a memory.

 

“Oh,” she mumbles, a bit embarrassed. “I didn't meant to...”

 

“It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping anyway. Saving my meds, you know.”

 

Regina doesn't know and her brain is too foggy to figure it out, but she nods anyway and is met with what actually looks like a small smile. The blonde then gently brushes her tears away with her thumbs before returning to her own bed and default ceiling-gazing position. Regina is completely stunned. And tired. She doesn't want her other meds but the sleeping pills are definitely necessary. She usually doesn't like it when people touch her, especially not without warning or when it's a stranger, so she _should_ feel uncomfortable. But she doesn't. It just feels...strange. In a good way, actually, if she's being honest.

 

She doesn't get to ponder more on the subject before sleep catches her again, this time without tragic memories from the past.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, wait, don't throw it away!” Malisha hisses as they re-enter their room the next day after breakfast and morning meds.

 

Regina freezes guiltily. How the hell did she notice? The nurses don't. On the other hand, the nurses are really unobservant. Far too trusting and laid back.

 

“Give me that,” Malisha commands and holds out her hand toward Regina. “If you don't want it, I'll take it.”

 

“But...it's...been in my mouth.”

 

The blonde rolls her eyes and sighs impatiently.

 

“Do you have any blood disease? Any ongoing infections?” she asks routinely, and Regina shakes her head, still baffled. “Well then!”

 

And that's how it begins. Their co-dependency. Regina gives the drugs she doesn’t want to Malisha, who in turn – unless she’s too high on said drugs – wakes Regina up from her nightmares and offers comfort. It’s not something they talk about. They actually barely talk at all. It’s just a silent mutual agreement.

 

* * *

 

“Who's Emma?”

 

Regina’s breath hitches. How does Malisha know about Emma? For a frightful moment she fears that she’s been reading her diaries but then the blonde continues.

 

“You talk in your sleep a lot,” she says explanatorily. “I figured she is, or was, important to you.”

 

Regina blushes, embarrassed about what she might have been saying, but the accuracy of Malisha’s last words hits her like a knife in her chest and she can't reply. _“Or was.”_ She can't breathe. _“Was.”_ She can't cry. It just _hurts_ so much, still, one and a half years after that horrible, horrible day.

 

She squeezes her eyes shut in an attempt to keep the images out and tries not to wheeze as she struggles for air. It will pass. It will settle. It always does. There's no need to panic. Then someone is rubbing her back and putting stray strands of hair behind her ears and all that grief she keeps locked in just breaks free. Violent sobs shake her body and she howls and wails and cries and it’s all such an ugly mess.

 

But she's not alone. Not this time. Malisha is holding her. Unafraid, undeterred, just holding her as she lets her heartache out. Keeping her from physically falling apart. Regina burrows closer into the embrace and allows herself to cry on the other woman’s shoulder. Malisha doesn't seem to mind and Regina is grateful, so grateful for this opportunity to completely let go of her defences.

 

Eventually, the sobs ebb into sniffles, and the sniffles slowly decrease in frequency.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you like this. I was just curious. We don't have to talk about it.”

 

But it’s suddenly okay. For a short while, here in Malisha’s arms, it’s okay.

 

“Emma is my girlfriend. W-w-was,” she stammers. “She...she died. Last February.”

 

“Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. That's a terrible loss.”

 

It is. The _worst_.

 

“I lost someone, too,” Malisha begins tentatively.

 

Regina’s interest is piqued and she leans back some to study the blonde’s face. Sad blue eyes gaze back at her and there's a certain hopelessness in them, the hopelessness of someone who's given up and accepted her fate.

 

“Who did you lose?” Regina asks carefully, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

“My daughter. She was taken from me.”

 

Regina furrows her brows as she tries to understand what, exactly, Malisha means by this.

 

“She was my little baby girl, just learning how to run and talk. One day I get a call from her day care and they tell me she's gone missing. I still don't know what happened to her and I try not to think about it.”

 

“That's...” Regina struggles for words. “I can't even imagine.”

 

“And please don't try to.”

 

So, they have both lost someone they love. Regina is not the only one needing a hug. She resolutely puts her arms around the blonde and rests her head on her shoulder again.

 

“I'm really sorry.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks has passed when Regina speaks to her current therapist for the first time. He looks so proud, as if it’s his efforts finally paying off when it’s really not, and she wants to set his hair on fire. She wants to punch him in that proud face of his and tell him to stop taking credit for things he has nothing to do with. But she doesn't. It wouldn't help her case. After the therapy session – and no more words from her, that’s for sure – she returns to her room, only to find half of it cleared out. Malisha’s stuff is gone.

 

And it's okay. For a brief second she thinks she's okay with that. But then old memories come crashing down and _she's_ _dead_ , _she's_ _dead_ , and Regina couldn't stop it and the world is reeling and she spins around and bolts from the empty room.

 

“Hey!” someone calls out, because they’re not allowed to run, but she doesn't hear them.

 

At first she’s rushing blindly through the corridors but then her brain kicks in again and _the_ _exit_ , she heads for their floor’s exit. People always leave through the exit, whatever their state may be. But it’s locked – of course it’s locked, they’re not supposed to be able to leave as they please – and she slams her fists on the glass with all her might as something breaks inside.

 

Next thing she knows she's waking up from what feels like eternal sleep. She has no idea of where she is. Perhaps it was all a dream? Perhaps Emma...? But her fragile hope is quickly crushed when she looks to her left and recognizes the two nurses. She's still in the mental hospital.

 

“Regina, we’re going to take you back to your room now. Will you be calm and do as we say?”

 

The nurse’s question perplexes her but she nods placidly, eyelids still heavy. She’ll be good. When hasn’t she been? Why did they drug her? What did she do?

 

As she gets out of bed with the support of one of the nurses she notices that her arms are all bruised up. She looks at herself with horror, unable to remember how she got them, and the nurse beside her senses her distress and confusion.

 

“It’s okay, Regina,” she says soothingly. “You had a bit of a moment, you were acting out, and we had to sedate you. No one got hurt. It’s okay. Just try to stay calm.”

 

Regina swallows thickly – she, she got hurt! – but lets the nurses guide her to her room, the empty bed not as upsetting this time. Malisha is not Emma and she’s most likely alive, probably just got out or moved to another ward. It's not like she was obliged to tell Regina. Or say goodbye. It just would've been...nice.

 

She’s given her meds and there's no cheating now, the nurses are both watching her. Then she's left to rest and that's what she's planning to do until her eye catches something on her nightstand. A small note. Frowning, she picks it up and starts reading the neat handwriting.

 

_I finally agreed to drug rehab treatment and I'm moving to another floor. It was sudden, I'm sorry we didn't get to say goodbye._

_Love, Mal_

 

She didn't just leave. Regina holds the note against her chest and smiles, closing her eyes. _“Love, Mal.”_ She's not Emma, but she's someone. Someone other than her mother, or Snow, or any of the other useless people in her life.

 

She wakes up again sometime in the afternoon, still clutching the note as if it’s her most treasured possession. Her eyes widen as she notices there's a number written on the back of it. She immediately fumbles for her phone and adds the number to her contacts. This means she should text her, right? Otherwise Malisha won't get her number and they will never talk again. But what to say? They never talked much, they didn't need to. They just... _were_. After a few minutes of hesitation she settles on something simple.

 

_Hey, I got your note. I'm glad you agreed to treatment._

_/Regina_

 

Perhaps too impersonal, she thinks after sending it. Dammit. She also feels a bit bad for passing on her meds to the other woman before. Figures she had drug problems. It was obvious, and yet... Never again, Regina decides, and quickly sends a second text.

 

_You can do it. I believe in you._

 

She gets a reply shortly after and a smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she reads it. She's not been smiling this much in months and it feels unusual, but freeing.

 

_Thank you, honey. It means a lot to me that you do. I hope you won't miss me too much, but I think I can visit if you like? During visitation hours, of course._

 

Regina will miss her, she already does, and she’d very much like her to visit. But she's wary of putting her heart out there and struggles with her reply.

 

_I’d like that._

 

It’s terribly lame but she hopes that Malisha will understand. They've only known each other for two weeks, but it’s been two quiet weeks. Surely Mal can't expect her to suddenly be all talkative.

 

_See you soon, then._

 

She checks the time and indeed, it's pretty soon. Gosh, those meds really messed with her. It's been almost a day since Malisha left. Almost a day since her little...breakdown. She feels a pang of guilt in her chest as she’s reminded of Emma. She hasn't forgotten about her, just took a small, well needed break from her misery. And Mal is just a friend. She's allowed to have friends, right? Emma would want her to have friends. It's okay.

 

Maybe.

 

* * *

 

Visitation is a bit awkward because Regina’s mother is there for some reason, and she eyes Malisha like she’s scum even before she knows they are there for the same person. When they both head in the same direction she gives the blonde one warning look and Mal wisely stands back. Regina grits her teeth and hates, hates, hates Cora Mills.

 

“Who’s that atrocious woman coming to visit you?”

 

They haven't seen each other in over a week and that's her first question. Regina almost can't believe it. But just almost. Cora is Cora.

 

“Still not talking?” she wonders and lets out a sigh when it’s clear that her daughter won't reply. “I wish you would stop with this nonsense and behave, but I guess that's too much to ask for. I came to tell you that your cousin is getting married next month and she and David would like you to come to their wedding. You better be out by then.”

 

Regina groans internally. She hates Snow and doesn't for a second believe that the girl wants her at her wedding. She's been so mean to her, even tried to seduce her boyfriend once in pure spite and when it failed she blamed it on the alcohol she hadn't been drinking. And Snow is only nineteen, three years younger than Regina, so why the rush to get married? Deep inside she knows she's just envious, though. Envious of Snow’s happiness and straightness and fucking perfect, unproblematic life. That girl has always gotten _everything_. It’s so unfair.

 

“October 23rd. We're all expecting you.”

 

With that she stands and either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about Regina’s face turning grey. Malisha does, even from her spot in the background, and she quickly approaches once Cora is out of the way. Regina swallows and swallows but bile keeps rising in her throat. Is this some kind of sick joke? Why would they do this to her?

 

“Hey, what's wrong?”

 

Malisha’s soothing voice and gentle touch calms her enough to be able to speak. Or try, at least.

 

“It’s... The day after her birthday... Their wedding... So cruel,” is all she manages, but somehow Mal understands.

 

“Do they know her birthdate?”

 

Regina nods, still not believing how they could pick the day after her deceased girlfriend’s birthday for their godforsaken wedding. She's not going. Not a chance. Which might actually be why they picked the date. So she wouldn't come.

 

“Then that _is_ cruel. I understand if you don't want to go. Frankly, I would advice you not to, but it's not my place to say.”

 

“Thank you,” Regina squeaks out, not until now realizing that she’s practically crushing the other woman’s hand.

 

When did she even take it? She quickly loosens her grip but doesn't let go. Not yet. Right now, her closeness to Mal is the only thing preventing her from breaking into a million permanent little pieces.

 

“Is there anything I can do?”

 

Regina swallows, nods, and whispers:

 

“Stay.”

 

So Malisha does.

 

* * *

 

Regina does attend the wedding. She surprises everyone with this, and even more so by bringing company. After the ceremony, idiot Snow immediately ushers her to the side and starts interrogating her, but Regina brusquely cuts her off.

 

“Don't you think I know why you picked this date? So I wouldn't come here despite my mother's threats. But you know what? It didn’t work, because I came anyway! And _no_ , she's obviously _not_ my girlfriend, because MY GIRLFRIEND, IS _DEAD_!”

 

She’s practically shouting at the end of her little speech and Snow looks genuinely shocked. She can see her mother glaring furiously at her from across the room and the guests are quieting down. Then someone takes her by the waist and guides her through the door, away from everyone's judging gazes. They’re alone and she takes a deep breath and buries her face in her hands, allowing tears to come. She doesn't care if she ruins her makeup, she's not going back in there anyway.

 

Malisha has her arm around Regina’s shoulders and is squeezing them gently. They are both dressed up, no one who doesn't know their background would suspect anything out of the ordinary by just looking at them. Regina is wearing heels but so is Mal, so the blonde _still_ basically towers over her.

 

“We weren't gonna stay for the after party, anyway,” Mal reminds her. “I saw some quality liquors.”

 

Regina can't help to chuckle at her friend’s ridiculous humour and turns her tear-streamed face to look up at her. She's changed. They both have, but she sees the change more clearly in Mal. She looks healthy. And she's beautiful. Well, she’s always been beautiful, Regina just hasn’t thought much about it until recently.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Mal wonders and tilts her head inquisitively.

 

“Nothing,” Regina mumbles and averts her eyes, blushing slightly.

 

She can't be thinking those things. It's not right. She already has a girlfriend and Mal is really just her friend. A close friend, who’s letting her live in her apartment while she’s still in rehab herself. But she can't be more than that. She just can't.

 

“It’s okay to let yourself love again, you know.”

 

Mal’s voice carries a hint of sadness and Regina’s stomach drops. So she knows? Is it possible that...?

 

“What do you mean?” she asks quietly, her voice frail.

 

“You stupid, stupid girl,” Mal replies, without the faintest trace of malice in her words. “You know what I mean. I love you.”

 

Regina forces herself to meet Malisha’s gaze, forces herself to not look away. She's trembling, her whole being fighting everything she is and thought she was.

 

“But I will never be _her_. I can only be me.”

 

She sounds so small and looks so sad and Regina is crying again, desperately keeping eye contact.

 

“I love you, too,” she finally confesses, to herself and Mal and the world all at once.

 

The ground is disappearing under her feet and she's falling, falling through the darkness. She wasn't supposed to love anyone else. Ever. Emma was her everything, her one true love, forever and ever. But she loves Mal, too, and suddenly she's not falling anymore. She's standing with both feet steadily on the ground and she knows. She's let her go. Her chest feels lighter, the world looks brighter, and she's finally free.

 

“You're not Emma,” she confirms with a sense of finality. “You are _you_. You’re Malisha and you’re fucking beautiful and I love you.”

 

And I choose you, she thinks as she reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss her.

 

* * *

 

“What made you change your mind?” Mal wonders later that evening as they’re huddled together in her bed, rehab missing a patient tonight.

 

Regina smiles secretively and snuggles closer, intending to never let go.

 

“You’re alive.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So... There were so many details I couldn't fit into this so I'm simply gonna say that if you are curious about anything that wasn't explained, feel free to ask in the comments or DM me on Twitter! I'm @Idisch_von_Swe


End file.
